What About the Tea?
by little hecate
Summary: Draco/Remus SLASH Remus and Draco have their first encounter after graduation


Body Disclaimer: By now you know the drill, but I'll say it again for good measure: I own none of these characters and I'm certainly not recieving any monies or the like for it. It is all for my own perverse pleasure. There.

Warning: This is SLASH. This is a situation wherein two men get rather... involved. Should this sort of thing bother you, please don't hurt yourself by continuing. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Pairing: Remus Lupin/ Draco Malfoy

Notes: Hi there! I know it's been a while, I promise to get Indigo Eyes updated soon. Thank you for all the lovely words of encouragement. Please don't think I've been ignoring them. So anyway, here's my first attempt at something other than H/D. For some reason, I just can't think what to title this, so should you want to send some suggestions (hint) that would be just smashing. So I'll just stop waffling and get on with it. Cheers!

Untitled

His silver-platinum hair is falling just the way I love it, when it frames his face just so that he looks like a fairy. His grey eyes are focused on mine and they shine with that familiar fire I have greatly missed. The pale pink of his lips is a lovely contrast against his milky skin. His mouth is curled in a small smile, and with his chin resting on his hands he looks perfect. The way I will always see him in my mind's eye.

He's just a foot away from me. He's been just a foot away from me for the last fifteen minutes and I don't know how much more I can stand. The distance is proving to be just an awful tease as we are close enough to sense and smell each other, but not close enough to touch. All I want is to touch him. I want to know that his skin is as smooth as I imagine it to be. I want to know that his body is as fragile as I imagine it to be. I want to feel his body shiver as I run my hands over it.

"Remus?"

The voice of the boy I've been staring at forces me out of my thoughts. "Sorry, Draco. What were you saying?" I try to recover, although I'm not sure that I've done a sufficient job. He just smiles at me, a pink tinge colouring his high cheekbones.

"I was saying that perhaps we should leave, get some air," he replies, his smile spreading into a grin.

"Indeed." The Leaky Cauldron has been packed since I walked in for a cup of tea twenty minutes ago. Then Draco approached and sat at the other seat. We started chatting about life in general, as we have been prone to do. It's a good cover for what we know we both want to say, but can't. Well, not until now, that is. He leads the way into Diagon Alley, only pausing to let me pass before him. The streets are already dark and snow is falling lightly.

"Perhaps we might do better to find some warmer air," he says airily, taking the lead, and offering his arm.

Again, I fall into thinking about the boy beside me. I should feel guilty for wanting him as fiercely as I do. He's young enough to be my son. But he walks and talks and lives with an air of maturity about him. Now that I think about it, that is probably what attracts me to him. When I taught him Defense Against the Dark Arts in his third year, I found him to be quite intriguing. Not that I found him attractive at the time- I mean, I may be sick, but I'm not perverse. But when I went back to teach him for his seventh year at school, I found that the boy I had been intrigued by had become a man that I lusted after. And a man that lusted after me in return.

That entire year was spent with us exchanging furtive glances from one to the other. It was nothing short of exquisite torture. I made no attempts to hide my feelings from him, and neither did he. No one around us really knows about it. Only we two are aware, as is the case in situations like these. We haven't seen each other since graduation until tonight. That would make it nearly eight months.

"Not much longer. Just a few more twists and turns and we're there," he assures me. But, really, it hasn't taken that long to get here.

And here we stand outside of a rather charming cottage. It is all alone out in the forest and it seems not at all like Draco. I always imagined that he would want a flat in some highly populated area somewhere. He opens the door and there is already a fire in the grate. He smiles seductively and waves me inside.

He has both of our coats on the rack and a pot of tea on before I even realize what is happening. All I can do is sit and watch him. He is the most graceful creature I have ever laid eyes on. It's like he is living out a ballet with every movement. Felines must envy Draco.

He sits beside me and leans a bit closer, whispering, "Ready?"

I laugh. Of course I'm ready. I've been waiting for this for five years. "Is this a trick question?" I ask.

He runs his hand along my ribcage, a smile spreading across his face. "I guess that answers that, then, doesn't it?" he whispers, leaning in to kiss me for the first time.

Fire flows through his lips which have an almost an unnatural softness to them. That is Draco, really. Everything about him seems rather unnatural. He is too perfect, even in his flaws. His tongue slips in between my lips, forcing them apart. Skillfully he begins to explore my mouth while his hands unbutton first my robe, then the shirt underneath. My hands are moving of their own volition, mirroring his movements.

My mouth moves to his ear, sucking in the lobe. He shivers and his breath catches in his throat as his clothing falls away. I trail my lips over his neck, stopping to softly kiss the protruding jugular vein. He shudders as my hands close around his narrow ribcage, thumbs lightly brushing erect nipples.

As I slide to the floor I slide my hands to his tiny waist, pulling him closer to me. I lean in to kiss his stomach, diverting his attention as I unbutton his tight trousers. He helps me, wiggling his hips so that I can pull them off. I take a moment to sit back and take in the most gorgeous thing I have ever witnessed. He is sitting, staring at me. The corners of his mouth are curled into the beginnings of a smile I have long wished to grant him. The milk-white of his skin makes him glow ethereal in the soft light of few candles.

"My god, you're more beautiful than I ever imagined," I find myself whispering 

breathlessly.

He chuckles softly, reaching to grab my shoulders and pulling me to him. Again his tongue invades my mouth and again I am lost in rapture. Suddenly I feel my hair falling loose from the tie holding it back. His hands tangle themselves up in it to massage my scalp. I can't help but let a soft sigh escape me. No other lover I've had has ever touched me like this. Although this is the first we have ever touched like this, it feels so familiar and easy. Not awkward like most first-times are.

Suddenly, the heat of his lips is gone and we have exchanged positions. Dazed, I look down at him, a lovely seductive smile gracing his angular features. He unclasps my belt and my trousers in one fluid movement and before I realize it, he is tossing them aside. His eyes hungrily survey my body, which is still relatively hard, despite the fact that I don't get enough excersise. Though Severus once told me I haven't aged past twenty five. Hmm.

Draco's forehead wrinkles in a thoughtful frown. "What is it?"

"I want to do this properly," he replies, standing. He offers me his hand, which I take. He leads me down a short hallway and into a darkened room. He mutters something and a fire springs to life in the grate, illuminating the room. It contains a large bed with black velvet and green lace curtains, a small bedside table, a vanity with a large mirror, and, to my surprise, a few Muggle paintings on the walls.

"Picasso?" I lift one eyebrow teasingly, pointing to a framed print from the aforementioned artist's blue period. "Never would have pegged you for being into cubism."

"I didn't bring you to my house so we could discuss my choice in art." He crinkles his nose in an unconscious expression of distaste, and any retort that was in my mind disappears when the manic urge to kiss him again assaults me. For an 18-year-old man, he has the strangest ability to look like a troubled four-year old. 

"Sorry, love. I wasn't trying to be critical," I try to make up for my obviously disquieting remark. His expression softens, though his features retain something like to confusion. I kiss him softly in an attempt to put his mind to ease. When I pull away the fire is back in his eyes. I can't help but sigh in relief. A warm smile gently spreads his mouth wider.

He forces me to sit on the edge of the bed as he drops to his knees. One hand runs sensuously up my leg and I gasp as he lightly strokes the inside of my thigh with the tip of one unnaturally long finger. His other hand has snaked it's way around my hip to push against my lower back, forcing me closer to his face. For a moment we stare into each other's eyes, as though we both know that this is the beginning of what we've been waiting for. The rubicon we've longed so long to reach. A few flicks of his tongue across the head of my throbbing erection is nothing short of exquisite torture. A moan escapes me, and it would seem that this greatly pleases the nymph sitting before me. For a split second a grin flashes before he takes my entire length into his hot mouth. I want to pass out from the sheer pleasure of this simple, solitary movement. Instead, I run my fingers through his hair. The silkiness of it makes me feel that much more surreal, but the solid of his skull underneath keeps me grounded.

Rather suddenly, he is straddling my hips as I lay on my back. Sitting down, he presses against me and moves his hips just slightly back and forth, creating delicious friction while his tongue runs from my navel to the nape of my neck. We share several slow, heated kisses as the passion builds. I keep my hands on his hips, not really guiding him, just loving the feeling of him solid in my hands.

Moving like water, he slides away from me. He pulls the sheets down and lays on his back. The look on his face is that of desperate wanting. I position myself between his slender thighs, though not entering him, to answer his silent plea. Instead, I content myself with savouring the icy sweetness of his mouth. My arms find their way around his small form, under his arms to hold his head in my hands as I make love to him with my mouth. If I never know what it feels like to be inside of him, I will be content in knowing intimately the contours of his mouth, his face, his neck, his waist, the small of his back.

I pull back to look into his soft, liquid grey eyes. They shine with warmth and passion. I bury my face in the soft crevice formed by his neck and shoulder, sighing contentedly. His arms wrap around my body to pull me tightly to him. For the longest moment we lay together, both savouring the feeling of being in each other's arms. He releases his grip and I again raise my eyes to meet his. They seem to glow brighter as he spreads his legs wider, silently inquiring of me to take him. Shifting my weight onto my elbows, I pull myself up. With one shift of my hips I enter him easily, coaxing a moan from the delicate body beneath me. His eyelids flutter as his head tilts back, baring his neck. I kiss it gently as I begin to move my hips. The world has melted away; there is nothing more than the beautiful form of Draco Malfoy writhing beneath me.

"Oohhh..... Remus," I hear him moan. His voice is barely audible but it drives me to a new level of arousal. He pulls me down, kissing me very softly but very firmly. I can't help but thrust harder into him. I'm so afraid that I might break him if I'm not careful, he is so delicate. He only moans deeper into my mouth as though begging for more.

A few long, hard thrusts later and we are both spent, gasping in each other's arms. I pull out of him as gently as I can, but the loss of contact is inevitably harsh. Draco presses his body firmly against mine, one hand finding it's way to my neck so that he can curl his fingers round my hair, head resting on my chest. I plant a few kisses on his soft, sweat slicked hair. He sighs in a content fashion before murmuring, "I love you, Remus," into my skin.

My breath catches. I can't believe I just heard what I just heard. For so long I have wanted to hear those words from someone... from anyone... and it is a boy young enough to be my son who mustered them for me. That it is a boy who can see past my finances, past my illness, past his own rigid up-bringing. A boy. No. Not a boy any longer. A man.

I pull the sleeping body closer, breathing in the floral scent of his hair. I take a moment to appreciate that his body and mine meld perfectly together. Like his mind and mine meld perfectly together. Finally we are together and together we are perfect. 


End file.
